


Cacophony

by Lightspeed



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Embarrassment, Light Bondage, Loud Sex, M/M, Noisy Bottom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-05
Updated: 2013-06-05
Packaged: 2017-12-14 00:22:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/830545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lightspeed/pseuds/Lightspeed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Medic fears their teammates knowing what they get up to in their bedroom, in spite of them all being well aware.  Heavy is done with his doctor muffling his cries.  He wants to hear him sing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cacophony

“Ach, scheiße, mehr bitte,” Medic whimpered, burying his face in the pillow. Rough, ragged breaths puffed out of him and into the white cotton below.

“Da, moy golubchik,” Heavy rumbled, giving his lover what he asked for, driving deep into him, pulling whimpering moans from him with each thrust. His big, broad hands held the doctor's slim hips tightly, his imposing bulk bent over the smaller man as he filled him, relishing the muffled sounds that managed to escape the pillow.

Medic was a noisy bottom. It had always simply been a fact of their lovemaking. He did his best to control himself, to keep the rest of the base from hearing, but it was always a struggle, an exercise in stifling repression. So many nights, Heavy would drive his lover to the depths of sensation, the heights of elation, only to have him bury his face in the pillow, the mattress, or the big man's chest to hide his voice. So many times had he bitten his hand to keep from crying out in unbridled lust and jubilation. He was always so tightly controlled, so rigid even lost so thoroughly in his lover's arms. He would not allow himself to let go.

“The others will hear me,” he had once explained. “I won't be able to quiet myself, and they will hear me, and we will not hear the end of it.”

Heavy failed to see how it was their problem, inconsiderate as it may be. He loved the beautiful symphony of ecstasy that emerged from his beloved's mouth, the whimpers, the panting, the needful whines. To cage that beauty, to hide it away was like unto a sin.

One morning, at breakfast, Demoman had made an idle joke about his teammates' romp the night before, something vague but suggestive. Medic had taken it as him having heard them, and would not have sex on base for a week afterward. The team knew about their relationship, but the doctor suffered no small embarrassment at the suggestion that they might be more acutely aware of their doings. Knowing they were in love, that they were lovers, was one thing. Being aware of the fact that Heavy had been sucking him off the previous night, however, was more than the doctor could bear.

It was a silly, stilted attitude that had no place amongst warriors, soldiers of fortune, Heavy thought. It had no place in the fringes where they dwelt, far from any true concept of society. Propriety was for those who went to fancy dinners and had polite conversation, not for men who killed and bled for their living. The Russian had long grown weary of his lover's hang-ups, respectful as he was of the man's feelings. It was time he realize just how sound-proof the concrete walls of the BLU base truly were.

Heavy pulled out of Medic, lightly slapping his hip. The doctor followed the oft-used signal and rolled onto his back, looking up at his towering lover with half-lidded eyes, his rosy face lightly crested with sweat. Settling into place, the big man grabbed his hips and tugged him closer, sliding back in with a few near-misses, making the both of them laugh a little. Their laughter was cut short as intense sensation washed through both of them, drawing out groans. Medic's hand shot to his mouth, biting down between his thumb and forefinger, his fingers wrapping around his jaw.

“No more of this, Doktor,” Heavy chastised, one hand tracing up Medic's side until it reached his arm. His fingers followed up to the offending hand and peeled it away from the German's mouth, taking it in his own hand, giving it a squeeze. “No more quiet, no more holding back.” He grabbed hold of Medic's other hand. Leaning forward, he pulled them up above his head, pinning his wrists with one mighty paw, his other arm snatching the doctor's discarded tie to bind them together. One arm snaked under the smaller man to hold him, his other hand, having secured the doctor's wrists, wrapped lovingly around his manhood. “Want to hear my Doktor's voice. Want to hear you moan. Want to hear you cry out. Want to hear you sing.”

“Schatz, they will hear us,” Medic reminded him, his eyes going wide in fear.

“Let them. They know we are in love, they know what we do together. Let them hear our love.”

“Heavy,” the doctor began, only to break into a moan as the big man began to slide out, only to slam back in with force. His yelp echoed off of the walls, making his face grow redder. The giant atop him only smiled in response. This was what he wanted. He began at the pace he had left off at, driving into Medic with abandon, stroking him in time, holding him so close, his lips leaving marks of possession along the smaller man's neck and shoulder.

Medic cried out, needful howls and whimpering grunts that betrayed every stroke, every entry, every exit, and every gentle bite Heavy's teeth pressed into him. The big man delighted in every moan, every beautiful vocalization that issued forth from his lover's perfect lips, mostly incoherent, punctuated by occasional curses in German and pleas for more.

“Ja! Mehr, mehr bitte! Fick, fick, ach fick mein arsch!”

Caressing him outside and in, Heavy could feel his lover tighten around him, growing ever closer as the pitch of his cries rose higher, sharp at times when he hit his mark. Desperate, clawing, staccato wails marked each forceful thrust, the bed creaking in accompaniment. The rough, low rumble of his own grunts provided a bassline upon which his lovely soloist danced, notes tumbling past pink lips in an uptempo flurry.

He didn't last long in the throes of his own abandon. Medic arched into Heavy's hand, keening his release to the heavens as he painted his lover's hand and their bellies, writhing beneath him. Heavy followed quickly, burying himself deep in the yowling doctor and spilling into him, filling him with his heat and his desire. He bit his lip, trying to quell the roar that rose in his throat, anxious instead to hear the beautiful cry of his lover feeling his release, shivering against him as he throbbed into him.

They fell together in a heap, panting and sweaty, curling up close. Heavy reached up limply and untied Medic's hands, letting his arms slide around his shoulders.

“I can't believe you did that. The whole base heard.”

Heavy nuzzled into Medic's neck, inhaling the scent of his sweat and lust, smiling against his soft, warm skin. “Then they are lucky. To hear you sing of our love.”

“I think you are tone deaf.”

“Maybe.” He sniffed. “Maybe. But to me, you are most beautiful tenor in world. I want to make you sing forever.”

“I will need a rest sometimes,” Medic joked, “I can only hold a note so long.”

“As long as it is fortissimo, I will enjoy this duet.”

**Author's Note:**

> requested by Tumblr user weeniehatjrs


End file.
